who'd have ever thought that this could be?
by crispydaae
Summary: A series of one shots involving Belle and Adam following thestanfoubrew and remuslupinsmiled's daily fic prompts on Tumblr for the month of June in celebration of the DVD release. Hopefully you all will join me :) just added chapter 7, 8, and 9 late bc I keep forgetting to update here after AO3, so please do catch up! :)
1. morning

The sunlight streamed gently into the West Wing, trickling down the curtains surrounding Adam's bed and dancing upon the golden streaks in his hair. Stirring awake, he subtly noticed the soft warmth hitting his back, but there was a much deeper warmth pressed against his entire front, a warmth that was slowly moving in his arms, burrowing deeper into his chest.

The events of the previous night poured back into his mind, and he opened both eyes to see Belle had not moved an inch from the position she'd fallen asleep in: her leg wrapped around his middle, her left arm around his upper torso, attempting to be as close to him as possible. She was still in her blue dress, which she'd changed into after they greeted the newly-human servants and realized by societal standards, they were both essentially in their undergarments.

Becoming human again was obviously overwhelming for Adam. He was at least two feet shorter, and his entire frame took on a completely different, smaller shape, throwing off his balance immensely when he walked. He couldn't even fathom how Mrs. Potts and Chip were adapting to having hands again.

But he knew it was strange for Belle too, strange to see him not only alive but human again when she'd been weeping over his body for what felt like hours, convinced her father would discover her still there the next morning, that he would have to pull her away from her Beast.

These changes emotionally exhausted them both, and after some celebration with the servants and a wonderful early dinner presented by Lumiere, they each retired to their rooms early.

Before the sun had even begun to set, they both collapsed onto their beds and slipped into a light sleep, but both Belle and Adam found themselves woken by nightmares less than an hour later. So, they both rose to find each other, following the path of the hallway and unintentionally meeting in the middle. Belle had been swiftly walking, her pace frantic, and bumped right into a tall, handsome man, dressed in a simple blouse and breeches.  
"Oof!" she gasped as he wrapped his arms around her, keeping her from falling.  
"You know, I should really be the one falling all over the place right now," Adam teased.  
She attempted to give him her usual half-smile, one that always seemed part playful and part loving, but it was weak, and he quickly let go of her.  
"Are you alright?" He asked, concern lacing his voice.  
"I...I had a dream," she answered.  
He carefully moved his hand to rest on her shoulder, his eyebrows raised, prompting her to elaborate.  
"But Adam, it wasn't a dream. It was just a memory. You died. You really, truly died. And all I could do was lie there on the ground next to you, trying to will you back."  
"But you did will me back, Belle. You came back and you brought me back. You do understand that, right?" He replied in astonishment.  
"I don't know…" her voice trailed off, her mind clearly still replaying the scene on repeat.

He grabbed her hand, guiding her towards the West Wing and shutting the door behind him. They both sat on the bed, but all she could do was avert his gaze, staring directly ahead to the spot on the floor where she'd lost him and found him again.  
He tentatively raised his hand to her cheek, pulling her face to look at his.  
"Belle, it's me. And if you have trouble seeing that, I completely understand. It'll take time - "  
"It's not that, Adam. I know it's you. I just can't stop thinking about how close I was to not having you, to being separated from you forever." she whispered.  
He was silent for a moment before replying. "I felt the same way, you know."  
"You must have known I'd come back? Even without the mob?" She asked.  
"Why should you?" he said sharply, although the words were not meant to pierce her. She knew they were aimed towards himself.  
She placed her hands on his, which were resting in his lap. "Because I would've missed you. No, not even that. Because there was no question that I belonged anywhere else at that point but here, with you." she asserted.  
"Nowhere else but a place you were imprisoned?" he muttered.  
She mirrored his earlier action, placing her hand on his jaw and pulling him towards her.  
"Nowhere else that could ever feel like home," she stated, her voice cracking slightly as her eyes shone with tears.  
His reaction reflected hers, his eyes beginning to water up a bit as well, and he pulled her to him, resting his head on her shoulder.

They stayed like this for a while before she finally whispered: "Can I stay here tonight? Please, I need to feel you next to me."

He would've replied no, for propriety's sake, but he knew that not only could he never deny her anything, but also that he needed her in the exact same way. And so they lay down, gripping each other so tightly, so afraid that one of the two bodies will be missing if they open their eyes. Instead, they both woke to find nothing had changed, that they were still themselves. That they were still together, and everything was okay.  
 _"We're together now, everything will be okay,"_ Belle had sobbed as she clutched on tightly to the Beast the day before.

It may have felt like a lie in that moment, but Adam knew nothing was truer as Belle lovingly gazed into his eyes, a sleepy smile shining brighter than the sunlight outside the window.


	2. jealousy

A week had passed since the curse was broken, and Adam and Belle had spent nearly every second of the day together, valuing their time together more than they ever had now that they'd each had a taste of living without the other. One morning, Adam walks into breakfast, dressed in a gold suit with a darker gold trim. Belle would laugh at how similar he looked to Lumiere if her mind wasn't immediately occupied with the strangest sense of deja vu. Her dark eyebrows furrowed, examining him further as he walked towards her, a beaming smile on his face - one that had hardly left him in the past seven days.

"Good morning, my love," he murmured, his voice soft as he gently raised her hand to kiss it. Normally, her cheeks would flush a bright peachy-pink, but her eyes were still fixated on his coat and breeches. She managed to smile, but her eyes were somewhere else, and Adam immediately felt his lungs tighten, threatening to collapse in on themselves. Had he done something wrong? Had she finally realized he wasn't good enough for her? She partially snapped out of her thoughts as she noticed the frantic look in his eyes when he removed his hand from hers.  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Adam. I just...I have the strangest feeling," she attempted to explain, but once again she became lost in her thoughts.  
He let go a slight breath at that, though his eyes were still cautious. "Is something wrong?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.  
"Not at all," she eased. "I just feel as though I've seen that coat somewhere…"

Adam finally relaxed, letting out a much deeper breath as his shoulders fell from their tense position. He sat at her side, quietly laughing. _"That was terrifying,"_ he muttered, beginning to pick at his croissant. He raised his head to see her staring at him once again, though it was not the usual stare he'd recieved several times this week - the one where she was admiring his new face, trying to memorize every part of it - this time it was perplexed, before she gasped, jumping in her seat. "What? What is it?" He questioned, once again feeling slightly uneasy.  
She beamed at him, grinning a brilliant smile. "I have seen that coat before, Adam. I dreamt it," she whispered.  
"What on earth are you talking about?"  
"You see, I'd completely forgotten, as one does when a certain amount of time passes after waking. But one night, a month or so ago, I'd actually dreamt of you, as you are now." She paused, then she looked at him, her expression full of wonderment and nostalgia. "Actually, several times, now that I think about it."  
He gulped. "You dreamt of me as a human?"  
She placed her hands in her lap, fidgeting, her cheeks beginning to flush. "Yes, sometimes. After you'd taken me to Paris, I'd gone in your room again to find you. I wanted to…" she stopped herself.  
"You can tell me anything, Belle."  
"I wanted to see you. I was upset, and I was hoping you'd comfort me. You weren't there, I suppose you were walking around the grounds or something, but I saw your portraits again, so I took the chance to look at them a bit more closely," she confessed. "I began to wonder about breaking the spell, and, although I couldn't admit it - I began to hope I could so that maybe...maybe I could be with you. I think, deep down, at that point, I knew I wanted that. And I knew it would be a bit odd if you weren't human."

Adam dropped his fork, shocked that Belle had been slightly conscious of her feelings that entire time. Weeks had passed after Paris before they had their dance.  
"I pushed it down, of course," she continued. "I didn't want to think about the possibility of feeling something for you. It was just too overwhelming of a thought at the time, when I still wasn't sure if I was in the castle because I wanted to be or because I had to be. But that night, I'd been just laying there, trying to fall asleep, wishing I could have found you so I could talk to you. And somehow, as I drifted off, I began to think of you if the curse was broken. I began to think of what could happen between us. And once I was finally asleep…"  
"Yes?" Adam begged, his voice desperate.  
"I'd dreamt that I'd kissed you. That's all I remember from the dream, it was all so hazy, but it was sunny out, and the snow was no longer covering the castle grounds. That coat sparkled, and you were holding me. I remembered it for a fleeting moment when I woke up, and in that moment….well, I'd almost been disappointed I'd woken up. But I pushed it down after that."

There was a period of silence, Adam unsure of how he felt. He was completely baffled, overwhelmed. It was so much all at once - for one, Belle had some sort of idea that she loved him far before he'd been shot or danced with her. Two, Belle had dreamt of him, his human self. Suddenly, he felt a wave of uncertainty, feeling strange in his own skin, like his hands were still paws, his teeth still fangs. He realized he was jealous that she'd dreamt of this version of himself, and not the Beast that had fallen in love with her. _He was jealous of himself._ He worked up the courage to ask her the question that had tormented him not just in that moment, but all week.

"What if the curse hadn't been broken?" His eyes were downcast, looking nearly disappointed in the response he hadn't even received yet.  
She immediately stood, kneeling next to his chair and placing her hands softly on his jaw. "Oh, Adam. Please, please know I loved you just as much as a Beast as I love you a man. The reason I had the dream was _because_ I felt something for you back then - for _you,_ as a Beast - and there were things that I couldn't help but wonder about. Things that I might want to do someday, that I think we can both admit I couldn't do with you in that form."  
Realization dawned upon him, and his cheeks became red. He attempted to mask the shy reaction with a smirk, or anything that resembled the confidence he truly lacked deep down.

She grabbed his hands, now gripping them tightly. "That night, far before that dream, I went looking for _you,_ " she assured. "I wanted to be with you when I was hurt and sad. I wanted you to...hold me. That's what I was hoping for. That maybe we could just sit there together. That's what I needed in that moment: _you._ The rest were just questions my consciousness had provided when I was half asleep." She pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw, her lips close to his ear. "I love you, Beast or man. And I would've stayed with you for evermore either way. I just simply couldn't do this," she whispered before placing her lips on his, gently at first but then deepening it as he relaxed, falling into her completely. Still on her knees beside his chair, he swept her up in his arms, placing her onto his lap as their lips moved against each other.

Lumiere had stepped into the room, and right back out, unsurprised by the sight of the couple's intimate embrace. Finding Belle and Adam in these sorts of situations had become increasingly common with each day that passed since that fateful night seven days before.

Still swept up in each other, they broke away for a moment, giggling like schoolkids, before brushing their lips together softly once more, ending in a final peck, Adam smiling against her.  
"What on Earth did I do to deserve you?" Adam said breathlessly as he pulled away from her, his blue eyes sparkling.  
Belle's lips tugged up halfway in the teasing smile that he adored. "The library. Definitely the library," she laughed, then moving a hand to his chest. "But also, this right here."  
"My chest? It is quite broad. I can see the appeal."  
Belle rolled her eyes. "Your heart, darling." He considered feigning a gagging noise at the softness of her statement, but his eyes betrayed him, giving her a look of pure adoration. "Although it is a very sarcastic one," she added as she moved off his lap and into her own chair.  
"I could say the same for you sometimes, mon amour," he chuckled before freezing. "Wait, you said there were other dreams."  
Belle cleared her throat.  
He grinned mischievously, scooting his chair closer to hers. "What exactly did we do in these dreams?"  
Belle shoved a strawberry into her mouth, muffling her response. Adam could barely detect the sentence _"nothing we've done yet."_  
He snorted, wondering if he should seize the opportunity to be bold. He decided to simply say it as quietly as possible, wanting to tease her but not so much as to scare her.  
 _"I suppose we'll have to change that someday,"_ he said playfully under his breath, attempting to keep a straight face.

The servants could hear Belle nearly choke on her tea and the laughter from the pair that followed all throughout the hallway.


	3. midnight

Several nights after the Beast had taken her to Paris, Belle found herself wandering through the hallways whilst everyone else in the castle slept. She'd felt too wired, too full of energy to sleep - and every time she did, she'd find herself waking up with a strange sense of longing, one that almost made her anxious with the need for something. The need to break the curse, the need to talk to the Beast - these were all things she somehow yearned for, and she couldn't tell if she ever had before.

And there was also the dreams. The dreams always woke her, but not in the way her childhood nightmares had. They woke her in a way that was almost saddening, like getting halfway through a book to discover five pages were missing. Usually, the dreams escaped her memory before she had the chance to ponder them, and a part of her was grateful to be spared of the inevitable psychological analyzation she'd perform on herself because of them. She didn't want to think about who or how or why, she just wanted to go back to sleep.

This night in particular, though, sleep seemed impossible. So, candelabra in hand, (but not a living one - they were all asleep, unlike her) she made her way towards the library, hoping a couple of poems would ease her to sleep. When she opened the towering doors, she was surprised to find a tall figure standing in front of the bookshelves in the dark, a few candles lit on a table behind him.

She had yet to figure out his name, and she wasn't sure how to address him. She didn't want to startle him, though, and she stood there for a moment, thinking of what she could call out to alert him of her presence. She was about to just settle for "hello" when he turned around, taking a sharp breath in.

"Belle," he said her name in such a desperate way, like as if he'd been standing there waiting for her all night. He then shook his head at himself a bit, noticing the tone of his voice had been less than subtle. "You're awake," he stated.  
"Yes, I'm afraid I can't sleep. I can go, though, if you want to be alone-"  
"No, it's….it's quite alright," he stuttered.  
She smiled and moved next to him as he placed what he had been reading on the shelf.  
"How can you know where to put it without light? You're going to mess up our system," she scolded, though her tone was still lighthearted.  
He smiled at her use of "our," marveling at the way she'd recently begun to speak of them as a unit, a pair. It was their system, their library. Their home. "Magic, I suppose. It's in the right place, I can assure you."  
She raised a brow skeptically, the warm glow from her candelabra just reaching the highest points of her cheekbones. She was strikingly beautiful in the darkness, in such a simultaneously soft and mysterious way - he knew her face like no other, yet in the darkness he could see the hollows of her collarbones so much more prominently. When he realized he'd been observing her for far too long, he abruptly turned away.

She scanned the bookshelf, not seeming at all bothered by how he'd gazed at her a moment before, settling on Shakespeare's sonnets and taking a seat on the couch nearby.  
He stood frozen in place, unsure of whether or not he should leave.  
She wondered how to invite him to sit with her, but somehow it felt like something was dancing in the pit of her stomach at the thought. She decided to ask him to read for her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she just wanted to hear his voice, but she dismissed it, telling herself she was simply too exhausted to gaze at the pages in the dark.  
"Would you like to read to me? I'm quite tired, I'm not sure I can make it through an entire page," she laughed sleepily.  
He seemed confused and surprised by her request, wondering how not making it through an entire page would be a bad scenario if she was trying to ease herself to sleep in the first place. However, he knew how fortunate he was that she was even asking, and decided he would over analyze later.

He sat down next to her, the edge book he'd previously placed on the couch piercing his thigh. He lifted it, placing it on his lap out of the way.  
Belle's eyes lit up in the darkness, and he almost groaned, knowing he'd intrigued her. This, unfortunately, was not something he felt like discussing.  
"What's that?" She questioned, as if on cue.  
"It's nothing, you don't need to concern yourself with it," he said gruffly, coming off rougher than intended. "Shall I begin?" He asked, his voice softer as he flipped to the sonnet he knew was likely her favorite, observing the bend in the corner of the page.

Her expression immediately looked more alert, and he knew the curiosity would keep her awake all night. He relented, placing the small book of sonnets on the table next to him and pulling the larger book off his lap. "Alright," he conceded, opening to a specific page.  
She looked closely at it, surprised to find they were simply documents.  
"Happy?" he muttered.  
"What are these? Are these the names of the people that have lived in this castle?"  
"Not quite. These are my relatives."  
"Your relatives?"  
"I couldn't remember my great aunt's name, and it was bothering me, the same way it bothers you when you can't remember a certain word," he noted, remembering just the day before when Belle struggled to remember the term "impertinent."

She smiled at the comment, her eyes moving from the list of royal names to his eyes, a perfectly human shade of blue. In his portraits, his eyes were so princely and piercing, almost god-like. While they were certainly strikingly beautiful in person, they were so much softer. They weren't raging crashing waves or a storm, they were the sky on a summer's day - deep and airy all at once. Her eyes widened when a sudden realization dawned on her. "Can I see that?" she asked quickly, and he nodded, passing it over to her. She flipped the pages, trying to find the most recent entry, and once her fingers ran down the print to the final name in the book, he realized what she was trying to do.  
"Nice try, but that's my cousin. He's ten years younger than me," he commented.  
She frowned a bit, looking at the names before it, eventually giving up when none of them listed ages or anything that would indicate which one was his. "Why won't you just tell me?"  
"I'll tell you, but there's no point in calling me by it. It's not who I am anymore. If you must address me by something, address me as what I am."  
She stared at his eyes, downcast towards the book, seeing the hint of sorrowful blue in them. This was not a beast before her, this was a man, a man cursed and in pain. She placed her small hand on his paw, squeezing it tightly. "You are not a beast." she affirmed, her voice strong and genuine.

He nearly sobbed, but he held it together, taking in a sharp breath and holding it as long as he could. When he exhaled, she was surprised by what spilled out.  
"Adam. My name is Adam."  
Her lips pulled up into a contagiously incandescent smile. It was one that spread across Adam's visage as well, one he couldn't conceal as he read sonnets to her for the rest of the night, even after she'd fallen asleep at his side.


	4. bath

_**bath**_

Adam and Belle had simply been laying in each other's arms for a considerable amount of time when Belle shifted uncomfortably, the bliss wearing off and the ache in her feet from dancing all night becoming much more prominent. Her pointed heels and wedding dress were still discarded on the floor, and the candles that had been lit at the end of the evening had now melted halfway down.  
"I think we may have had a bit too much fun, my love," she giggled, stretching.  
"Are you alright? Are you in pain?" He panicked, guilt flooding his eyes, immediately running his hands across her figure, searching for bruises or any area he may have been a bit too rough with.  
She softly hit his chest. "No, you silly man. I meant dancing. I'm fairly certain I wore my shoes all the way through," she stated, moving her hand across his bare chest, noting the smoothness that wasn't there just a month ago when she'd had her first dance with him.

"Ah, well that's a relief. I'd hate to have exhausted you too much," he teased before rising from the bed.

She sat up, pulling the covers he'd just been under around him - they still seemed to radiate his warmth - and admired her husband as he walked into the bathroom.

Her husband. She pondered this for a second, resisting the urge to laugh or cry or grin ear or all of the above. It seemed cliche to dwell on just how surprising life can be, but she truly was in awe of the way her life had changed since she'd first come to the castle seven months before. _"Who'd have ever thought that this could be?"_ she whispered, mainly to herself, before collapsing back down onto the mattress, burrowing deeper into the warmth.  
 _"Darling,"_ Adam called, and she could hear the bathwater running in the distance. Her heart still raced and melted all at once whenever he used terms of endearment - love, darling, mon amour. He'd found himself becoming more comfortable expressing just how besotted he was with her with every day that had passed since the curse broke. Every embrace, every kiss, every time she'd found herself in the West Wing at midnight, unable to sleep, and he held her close, stroking her hair and whispering how much he loved her. She always marveled at how soft the man behind the Beast that had once seemed so fearsome truly was. Underneath the fangs, or even just the sarcastic demeanor, there was a man even more enchanting than the Prince Charmings in all her favorite fairy tales. There was a deep, endless adoration, beyond appearance or time or hope. There was an unconditional, selfless love, one she'd never found in her books. In the seven months since she'd first arrived at the castle, she found herself pulling her nose out of them more often to look at him.

She rose to join him in the bathroom, dragging the sheets with her, wrapping them modestly around her. She found him sitting in the back of the large bath, patting his hand down on the empty space in front of him. "The warm water should help," he explained.  
She let the sheets drop, a sly smile painting her face. "Liar. You just wanted an excuse for me to drop these blankets," she quipped.  
He smirked as she placed herself in front of him, the water already almost halfway up her waist. He wrapped his arms around her, resting her head on his shoulder as the warmth of the water and the warmth of her body enveloped her in such an immensely blissful way - all she could think of was how it felt like the days they'd spent in the sun since the curse broke, like the nights they spent reading by the fireplace before it broke, how Adam seemed to always just be so _warm_ \- how life before him seemed like winter in comparison.

He felt the same way for her, although for him it was less of a metaphor and more a literal state of being. Sure, poetically, he was trapped in an eternal winter, constant blizzard of his own torment, but the castle was also always literally covered in snow. Until Belle came, that is, and melted every surface of the castle grounds and of him, tore down every icy wall until all that remained was pure, utter warmth.

Belle drifted off quickly in Adam's arms, feeling safer than she ever thought possible, and he struggled to stay awake, partially so that he could turn the water off when the bath was full, but mainly because he wanted to savor every second of the life he never even imagined having with Belle. He pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder at the thought, following with a more firm one to her neck, running his hands across her arm and waist. She hummed softly before twisting her neck around to place a slow, sleepy kiss on his neck first, then one to his lips. Taking their time at first, their lips brushed languidly against each other, until eventually they were moving desperately against each other. She found herself becoming much less sleepy at the feeling, and the warmth moved through her even more, and it quickly escalated, blazing and burning, becoming fire for the third time that night.

Adam certainly wasn't complaining.


	5. leather

**leather**

Belle awoke to harsh sunlight, something that had coincidentally been falling against the castle at dawn much more frequently since Belle and the Beast became friends. Actually, perhaps it wasn't coincidental - Belle had found it suspicious, really. Her eyes scrunched in confusion at the warmth against her face, knowing she'd shut her curtains last night. She became more aware of the senses around her - the smell of old parchment, cool leather beneath her body, and the left side of her pressed against something soft, like...

 _Fur._

It all came back to her now. The dreams waking her. The library, the Beast - no, _Adam_ \- Adam reading to her as she fell asleep. She'd curled up against him in a way that probably rendered him incapable of moving without waking her, and she smiled softly at the fact that he'd probably stayed for that reason. His chest rising and falling slowly, she sat up just a bit, observing him. _"He's going to be uncomfortable when he wakes,"_ she thought to herself, noting the stiff position he'd fallen asleep in, his neck curved towards the edge of the couch, but he was far too tall to actually rest his head on it, so it just hung lazily against his shoulder.

She took the chance to do something she'd always been curious about, knowing that they'd probably only been asleep a few hours and he was (hopefully) too exhausted to be woken easily. She raised her hand slowly before placing it on his jaw, feeling the bone structure underneath his fur. She'd always thought that behind the hair, maybe there was still the face of a man - something about his face seemed so human, despite how tall and broad his frame was. His shoulders may have extended widely enough to cover Belle's body twice, but his face - she somehow thought that if she lifted the fur, she'd find ivory skin underneath.

She traced her fingers along the rest of his face now, feeling the bridge of his nose, the highest points of his cheekbones. She shut her eyes, trying to imagine what he looked like in person rather than paint strokes, both with the memory of his portraits and what she could feel underneath her touch. She saw an undeniably handsome man - but not so much as to be unattainable or intimidating, his hair loose around his shoulders and his eyebrows a little perturbed. However, the rest of his features certainly were princely - a long, royal nose and high, elegant cheekbones that rivaled even some of the sculptures she'd seen in Paris. Her brows furrowed as she continued to picture him, finding that she didn't even care that much about how attractive he once was. When she opened her eyes and saw a beast before her, she wasn't disappointed or horrified by the change. If anything, she saw no difference.

Beneath the fur was not a handsome prince, nor was it an animal. Beneath the fur was Adam, the man who saved her life, who read her sonnets as she fell asleep, who threw snowballs her and ate with her, who infuriated her on a daily basis with his impossibly snobby taste in books. But the monster did not bother her. To her, the monster did not exist, nor did the prince.

It was just Adam that she held onto as she slipped back into a comfortable sleep, basking in the warmth radiating off of him on her left side and the coolness of the leather sofa on her back, her mind finally abandoning dreams of the prince or nightmares of the beast and allowing her to simply be with Adam.


	6. first

_**first**_

Unsurprisingly enough, Adam had never been to the village. Well, not as an adult. He does remember that his mother often took him to Villeneuve on her trips throughout the province to check on the people. Sometimes they'd grab some fresh jam from the merchants, the people of Villeneuve may have not been the most educated but they certainly knew how to make jam. Adam remembered being fascinated by the simplicity of the life there, how no one seemed stressed like Cogsworth or sad like his mother or angry like his father. They may have seemed a little bit bored, but they seemed safe.

He remember skipping across the rocks on a lake one day, his last time in the village with his mother, thinking about what life would be like as a commoner. He would be bored, he knew. He needed dancing, traveling, excitement - he couldn't imagine himself living everyday the exact same way. However, he wondered if he would be happy spending just one day in that life, away from the whispering from his grandfather of how Adam would always be too soft, too kind to do any good for his country, or the yelling from his father of how he would always be too weak, too emotional.

He'd observed a little girl reading one day as he contemplated that, tangled light brown hair framing her small face. He didn't think anyone in the village knew how to read, and he almost approached her, before his mother grabbed him by the hand and led him back to the carriage.

 _"Maybe being a commoner wouldn't be so bad if I knew someone like her,"_ he had thought to himself. From that day on, the young prince had dreamed of what it might be like to escape, just for a week. Put on simple clothes, live in a cabin nearby, and just stroll through the village, observing the humble life it offered.

On one particular day, a week before his wedding, Adam sat at his desk in the West Wing, his fingers tightly pinching his nose, resting his head against his knuckles. He barely heard the knock at the door, and Belle walked in, assuming he was decent (although if she was being perfectly honest, didn't really care if he wasn't.)  
"Did you sleep at all last night?" Belle questioned, her voice careful but concerned. She knew he'd procrastinated his paperwork all week to spend time by her side, and he was left to finish everything the previous night while she slept. It was probably the first night in weeks she hadn't snuck into the West Wing when no one was watching. She knew not to distract him.  
He groaned, barely mumbling a "no" as he shut his eyes.  
She placed her hands on his shoulders, then running her hands up and down his upper arms. "Come to bed, Adam. Get some rest," she soothed.  
"I couldn't if I wanted to, Belle. I'm exhausted, but at the same time I'm wired with stress."  
She hummed in response, thinking. "Would you like to take a break, get some fresh air? I'm going to meet Papa in the village. I left one of my notebooks at the cottage. Perhaps you could see the village?" she offered.  
Adam mentally deliberated the thought. He hadn't been to the village at all since the curse had been broken. Hell, he hadn't been to the village since his mother was alive. Although he had seen them all after the curse broke in front of the castle, he was so exhilarated, in such a state of bewilderment at Belle breaking the curse and saving his life, his mind was far too occupied for the guilt to take over when he looked in their eyes. He may have spent the past five years repenting for what he'd done, but it would never feel like it was enough. However, the warmth of Belle's brown eyes beckoned him to follow her wherever she went, and he agreed, rising slowly from his chair.

Adam's first time to the village in twenty years had been surprisingly pleasant. The villagers had certainly greeted him with surprise, but not with disdain or resentment. Dressed in a simple white blouse, brown vest and brown breeches, he didn't look at all like the selfish prince that held balls paid for by their taxes, but like the kind boy that had bought jam from them so many years ago. He shook their hands, no matter how much charcoal or dirt may have been on them, and every time Adam tensed up with memories of his own mistakes, Belle gently squeezed his hand or placed a kiss to his palm.

He also saw Belle's home, a modest but comfortable cottage adorned with sketches and paintings on nearly every inch of the walls. He explored Belle's bookshelf, only with about five books that Maurice had brought from Paris when they'd escaped the plague and one she'd forgotten to return to Pere Robert. The rest of the shelf was filled with notebooks, sketchbooks and diaries, an endless stream of pages full of the mind and creativity and consciousness of the woman he loved. While she'd only planned to retrieve one, he insisted they load all of them into a trunk and bring them back to the castle, hoping he could sneak a peek at a few sometime when she wasn't paying attention.

They took tea with Maurice at the small dining table in the kitchen, and Adam wondered what life with Belle would be like in a cottage like this. He knew she'd hate it, and with time, he might too, but he couldn't help but think it would be nice for a least a little while. They could have adventure one day, and a simple life the next. He decided he'd ask Cogsworth if it was possible to build a small cottage near the castle that they could escape to when everything felt like too much.

As they left the cottage, Belle hugging her father and waving goodbye to the chickens (which Adam thought was possibly the most endearing thing he'd ever seen), they walked to the carriage, which was parked in the grass at the end of the street. His hand in hers as they walked, when they reached the end of the block, he froze, his grip loosening.  
"What is it, Adam?" she asked, following his gaze towards a tall tree to the left. It stood upright, proud, isolated from the forest, a single tree amidst the grass. She remembered she used to sit beneath it as a child, wondering if it knew how she felt when she was amongst the villagers.  
"The last time I was here, I saw a little girl there. She seemed like she was about five years old." Adam stated in such an obvious tone, Belle realized what he was implying.  
"Me. You saw me. I'd just learned to read with a small picture book," she beamed up at him.  
"I wanted to go talk to you, you know. I wanted to sit with you and see what you were reading. You were so young, and I didn't think the villagers read at all to begin with."  
"They didn't. I wish you had. What stopped you?" she asked.  
"My mother, she wanted to go home early. Now that I realize it, I don't think she was feeling well," Adam gulped, his chest tightening at the memory.  
Belle wrapped her arm around his, entwining her fingers with his tightly as they walked side by side towards the tree. They sunk down onto the ground, resting against the tree as Belle pulled out a copy of Hamlet.  
"I don't suppose we have the time to read here today?" he asked, knowing she'd wanted to get back to the castle by sundown to read to chip.  
"We have all the time in the world, my love." she answered, and before looking over his shoulder to see if there were any prying eyes, he placed a soft kiss to his fiancee's lips before they parted and read his favorite play.

 **Author's Note:** Hello there! As you can tell, I got a little bit specific with Adam's age and timeline stuff in this fic. I've actually created my own theory about how long Adam was under the curse, and how old he is by the time it ends. To sum it all up, I think that time passed much slower in the castle, so while Adam was only "missing" for five years, he was cursed for ten, thus making him thirty when the curse is broken. You can read more about it here: post/161418424525/since-ive-been-writing-a-lot-of-fics-lately-and

I just got a new job, so I'm going to try my best to keep up with this. Comments definitely encourage me! To everyone who's been commenting lately, you have no idea how much that means to me, thank you for your support 3


	7. bright

_**bright**_

The Beast woke in his bed after several hours of sleep to nearly blinding sunlight. As much as he wanted to admit to himself how much hope it gave him to see that the sun was shining brightly over the castle for the first time in nine years, he was far too annoyed by how his eyes were no longer adjusted to the brightness of it all. He opened his eyes carefully, squinting, barely making out the figure sitting beside him.

 _Belle._

He remembered now, the wolf chase, Belle cleaning his wounds, him developing a fever hours later in his sleep. She had been sitting on a chair by his bed earlier, but at some point, she'd moved onto his bed.

His heart nearly stopped at the realization, and her small hand clutched a rag, slowly moving it towards his forehead. She pressed the cool cloth against him, and he smiled - not at the feeling, although it certainly helped with the discomfort - but at her.

He'd known from the moment he saw her small silhouette entering the castle grounds she was beautiful. There was no denying that.

However, the beauty he saw before him caused him to completely reevaluate just what beauty is - this young woman, who he'd screamed at, frightened, imprisoned and driven away was now sitting beside him as if he were her dearest friend, a soft smiling attempting to mask the concern in her eyes as she placed the back of her hand where the cloth had been, feeling his temperature. Before he even realized what he was doing, he smiled back weakly.  
"I think your fever has broken, but you'll need to keep resting. We can't risk it coming back," she stated, mainly to herself.  
He wanted to nod, but felt too exhausted, and tried to smile once more - this time consciously, on purpose. It became easier to pull the corners of his lips up just a little bit more when he realized that she spoke of the possibility of his fever coming back as if it was something she wanted to avoid, as if she wasn't wishing the fever would come back even more dangerously than the previous time and render him too weak to fight if she tried to run.  
Little did she know he wouldn't stop her, and his brows furrowed deeply at the thought.  
 _He wouldn't stop her._  
She looked at him as though the fever made him delirious, shaking her head in awe.  
Her face was the last thing he saw before he slipped back into a light sleep, although he could have sworn he heard her voice echoing through his dreams, quoting - what was that? Shakespeare? In his dreams, she sat by him in the colonnade, the sun shining down onto the pair, which was no longer covered in fur but a loose white blouse, allowing the warmth to trickle down his back. They read and laughed and her golden brown hair almost looked like it had tinsel tangled in it as the sunlight danced upon the lighter strands. She was utterly golden, and not just in her appearance. In her heart.  
She had become everything he needed in that moment. Light. Life.  
 _"She is the sun,"_ he'd whispered to himself in his dream, not realizing Belle was reciting a similar line beside him, a hand on his shoulder.


	8. hands

_**hands**_

Adam quite literally could not keep his hands off Belle.

Alright, perhaps that was an exaggeration - Adam was certainly capable of keeping his hands off Belle in the moments after the curse had been broken, but he didn't care to.

He needed her touch for so many reasons. He could barely begin to count them all before they walked to greet the villagers outside, her hand gripping his tightly. After Adam had a moment with Lumiere, they reunited as they spoke to everyone, and she rubbed her thumb across the palm of his left hand, her right arm wrapped completely about his.

The villagers, far too happy about reuniting with their family and friends, paid no mind to the slightly scandalous sight of Belle and their prince in their undergarments, their sides completely adjacent, leaving no space between the pair.

Once Adam had spoken to everyone he wished to, he excused himself to go to the West Wing and change, and Belle followed quickly behind him. Only Mrs. Potts noticed Belle scurry quickly to catch up with him, but all she could do was smile at her prince, her boy, finally himself again, smiling and laughing - things she had not thought him capable of in recent years. Not until the beautiful girl following behind him had arrived at the castle. Not until she came and saved them all. Mrs. Potts decided they certainly deserved a few minutes alone, and this was without the knowledge of Adam's death just minutes before.

Adam was caught up in a whirlwind of emotions, hardly noticing the soft but swift footsteps behind him as he made his way towards the West Wing. Once he'd made his way into the room, feeling foreign in the now bright, shining palace, he crumbled to his knees, facing in the direction of where he'd just been laying cold moments ago.

Before his brain could register what was happening, he felt arms enveloping him from behind, a particularly pointy chin on his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw before patting his ribs to guide him to face her.  
"It's a lot, isn't it?" she said knowingly.  
He gave an exhausted laugh, more of a frantic, broken exhale than anything. "You have no idea. Or, I suppose you have some," he replied.  
"It's certainly a lot to take in. Not necessarily the sight of you, I knew your face from the portraits, but the servants, the castle - everything is so different," she said breathlessly, her voice full of wonder. "Not to mention, I was sure I'd lost you forever just a moment ago," she added, her eyes glistening with tears as she stroked his cheek. Somehow, he already had the subtlest bit of stubble along the edges of his jaw. She placed her lips where her hand had been, kissing the soft areas and rougher areas and feeling him in every way she could without being too improper. Of course, the _other_ ways of feeling him would have to wait - not only until it was the proper time, but until they were ready.  
He brought her into his lap, wanting her as close as possible as they held onto each other on the floor.  
"I can't imagine how this is for you, though. You're an entirely different shape," she continued after a period of silence. "I know you're tall, but you almost seem short in comparison to your former frame."  
He laughed at this, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. She placed her hands over his, turning them up and tracing her fingers along his palms, staring down at them in wonder. "You've got room to talk. You can't even reach most of the books in the library without me," he teased, causing her to look up back at him.  
"The bookshelves in that library are taller than my entire cottage stacked on top itself twice," she responded, looking directly into his eyes. She found it slightly harder to argue with him when his crystal blue eyes met with hers, but she managed.  
"You can't even reach the third shelf and you know it."  
She giggled, a sound so soft and light and airy she'd never quite expected to see the day it escaped from her mouth, before moving into him, kissing him once more. Amidst overwhelming excitement, she felt her heart swell to realize her witty, infuriating Adam was exactly the same as he was just the day before. They stayed like this for a while in an embrace, Adam running his hands up and down her arms and back, exploring the feeling of his bare skin upon hers. She reveled in his touch, wondering how she ever could have survived without it.


	9. smile

_**smile**_

When Belle awoke in Adam's arms the morning after the curse had broken, she couldn't stop her lips from immediately tugging up into a blissful smile at the feeling of his arms around her. She backed up a bit, pushing her back against his chest a bit more, and she felt him curl up behind her, his grip on her tightening a bit, pulling her as close as possible. He sighed before pressing a kiss to her neck, and she could feel him smiling through it.  
"We should probably get you back in your room before Mrs. Potts comes in," Adam mumbled, yet his actions contradicted his words as he continued to press kisses to her shoulder. He was being bold, he knew - they'd only had their first kiss the day before, for God's sake - but he was far too sleepy to be shy or even rational.  
"Oh, please, Mrs. Potts would hardly mind. We're perfectly clothed. Nothing happened that I think shouldn't have been expected," Belle commented.  
"Oh, really?" he grinned mischievously, pulling at her waist so she would turn to face him.  
She smirked a bit, continuing to taunt him by not replying. As she traced her fingers along the familiar shape of his jaw, her smile fell. There was a moment of silence between the two, an acknowledgment that this was real, that they were lying here together, despite all that had happened.  
"Please don't make me leave," she pleaded in such a desperate tone, he protectively tucked her head underneath his chin immediately.  
"Never again, my love. Whatever we do, we'll do together, as long as you want me to," he promised before kissing her forehead and scooting down the bed to face her again, his eyes level with hers now. "I'm assuming you'll want to sleep in here again tonight, won't you?" he guessed.  
She smiled sheepishly, looking down at her hand in his. "I don't suppose you'll let me? You said 'just this once.'"  
He grinned, undeniably, irrevocably awestruck at just how much had changed in the past day. "I lied," he chuckled, knowing that they'd survived much worse things, propriety could never stop them from being together, at least just in this way for now. They drifted back to sleep as the sun rose, Mrs. Potts entering the room to wake the Prince, and as Belle had predicted, she was not at all surprised to find the two lovers wrapped up in each other. More than that, she was happy.

 **Author's Note:** yo whaddup I've officially kind of given up on these prompts. I was going to give up completely, because I've been going through a rough time lately and I feel like my most recent one-shots have sucked, however I saw a comment on the last chapter that said "please don't stop" and another from the user telepathy that said it was their favorite thus far and I was SHOOK bc I thought it sucked. so, I kind of give up, but not really: I'm going to just write the ones that inspire me from now on, so I'll probably write about five more. I don't want to push myself bc of the mess that my life has been lately, I feel like if I do they just honestly suck and are so poorly-written (which is honestly how I feel about this chapter and the one before it) and keep having the same themes as previous chapters. However I'm so honored that people actually like these, so I'll try to write a few more :) thank you all so much for the encouragement, you have no idea how much it means to me. I would've totally given up if it wasn't for your support, so thank you! 3

also, comments definitely do encourage me to try a little harder to keep going, even if I do skip a few ;)


	10. rejection

_**rejection**_

" _Exactly how many times did you reject Gaston?"_

Adam had dared to finally ask Belle the question - partly in a joking manner, mainly out of genuine curiosity - a week before their wedding when the pair were relaxing in the library. They'd originally planned to spend the rest of the afternoon reading, but Adam was rather talkative (as he typically was around Belle) and one thing led to another until he was all but demanding Belle spew out random stories from her childhood.

She was more than happy to comply, of course, if he did the same for her, but unfortunately the only good parts of his childhood he was far too young to remember clearly at this point. Shifting the somber tone, Belle decided to joke about Gaston's endeavours in pursuing her - only the most iconic moments, of course, considering his proposals were a regular occurence.

"Well, let's see...I was seventeen the first time he did it, and he did it a few more times that year. They became more frequent as I got older, though, until right before I'd met you, he must have been doing it twice a month on average," Belle said.

Adam nearly spit out his tea laughing. "And how many months did this occur?" Adam asked.  
"Oh, at least nine," she replied.

He laughed for a few moments before his lips tugged up into a smug smile.  
"What? What is it?" she questioned.  
"Oh, nothing, I was just thinking...you said 'yes' to me the first time," he smirked.  
She snorted, but her cheeks betrayed her nonchalant response by immediately flushing. She looked down at the floor, then looked back up at him as she scooted closer to him on the couch. "Do you want me to revoke my acceptance of your proposal, then? We can go at this for the next ten years if that's so much more interesting to you," she quipped teasingly.  
He quickly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him, pressing his forehead to hers. "No, I think I've been rather lucky, I really shouldn't jinx it," he whispered. His smile was playful, but his eyes shone with affection and wonder, revealing that he truly was in awe that the woman in his arms was his. His eyes darted to the door to check for witnesses before he pulled her into a deep kiss, his lips moving passionately against hers. She sunk into him moaning, her limbs seeming to lose their strength, and if he hadn't been holding her tightly against him she may have just fallen back against the arm of the couch. He pulled her onto his lap so she straddled him, wanting her as close as possible, and they kissed each other more frantically before Adam abruptly broke away from her, gasping. She sighed in disappointment. He gave her one last peck, and she found it difficult not to smile against his lips.  
"Soon, my love," he murmured before kissing her cheek, her jaw, behind her ear.  
She exhaled deeply before responding. "One more week."

 **Author's Note:** WOAH GUYS. I'm SO overwhelmed (in the best way) by your responses to my announcement last chapter! I seriously didn't anticipate that many people saying they'd miss my work. I'm in awe, honestly. I've decided I'm going to do my best to catch up - I skipped "sand" because that one honestly had me stuck. I decided it was best to skip it rather than to give up on all the other ones. Thank you all so much not only for the support and love for my writing, but the well wishes regarding my current life and whatnot. I did have a great birthday...Dan actually replied to me during his Twitter Q &A! Made my entire year, tbh. And I'm still kind of sick, but it's all good. No more sore throat so I'm not complaining.

But yeah. Thank you all for the love. You all are so kind. I seriously can't thank you enough. I would've given up if it wasn't for you! 3 also, I know these chapters are getting quite short, but I figure it's better to post a little than nothing at all.


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